Mending a Heart and the Tie that Binds

A/N: ** Before and after a word is the equivalent of bold text or the stressing of a word. *Before and after a word refers to something a character is thinking, rather than speaking out loud. Enjoy! :o)


Ch 14: Some Truth in the Midst of Darkness


Legolas’ eyes fluttered open, but he soon wished he hadn’t regained consciousnesses. His head throbbed painfully and he clutched his forehead, believing it would split in two at any given moment.

“Legolas?”

The prince squinted his eyes and looked around the unfamiliar bedchamber, surprised to see that Elladan and Haldir were sitting beside him. They were staring at him with expressions of concern imprinted on their faces.

“Legolas… are you alright?” Elladan asked gently.

The prince tried to talk but heard a weak moan escape his lips. He opened his mouth again but his throat disobeyed him, refusing to allow him to speak.

Elladan, seeming to understand, poured some water in a small chalice and moved closer to the prince’s bed. Carefully, he handed Legolas the glass.

Legolas sat up slowly and drank deeply from the cup, clearing his throat before trying to speak. “Wh… where am I?” the prince asked weakly.

“You are in the Lórien guesthouse in an unused bedchamber,” Haldir said.

“Why?”

“Do you not remember what happened in the forest?” Elladan asked.

Legolas lay back against the soft pillows, closed his eyes and began to think about the events of the day. He remembered the way Elladan looked in the midst of battle, he remembered Elrohir’s loss to Haldir and then he remembered the sky’s thunderous laughter and its threat to kill Haldir.

Elladan watched the prince carefully, trying desperately to mask his growing concern. But as Legolas lay there on the bed with his eyes closed, seemingly deep in thought, pale-faced and weak, Elladan felt his façade beginning to break.

The prince opened his eyes slowly and met Elladan’s concerned gaze. “I remember…”

“You… you saved my life,” Haldir blurted out.

Legolas looked at Haldir and smiled faintly. “Aye.”

“Legolas, what happened in the forest?” Elladan asked. “How were you able to save Haldir?”

“I… I am not sure,” the prince responded honestly. “I… I saw it happen. In my mind’s eye, I saw the limb fall.”

“You had a vision,” Elladan said without hesitation.

“How can you be so sure?” Legolas asked.

“My grandmother has had many visions in the past and she has told me about them,” Elladan responded. “I have never seen her become incapacitated after one, though.”

The prince nodded, feeling himself becoming increasingly weaker.

“How… how is this possible?” Elladan asked. “You never told me that you have more than one gift. I knew you could speak to animals… but I never knew about this.”

“Neither did I,” Legolas said, sighing. “I… I do not know what to make of it…” The prince’s voice trailed off and he gazed up at the ceiling. “My ability to communicate with animals… I have had the gift since I was very young. Over time… my ability became stronger. At first, I could only speak to small, forest creatures, like squirrels and rabbits. In time, I gained the power to speak to horses, bears and deer.”

“I… I do not understand,” Elladan said. “Do you believe your power is growing?”

“Nay,” the prince responded after a brief pause. “My power has remained the same for nearly five centuries. I guess I am just a bit confused as to why it would change now. I just need some time to try and figure out…”

“No you don’t,” Elladan said curtly, interrupting the prince. “It would seem that time is of the essence, Legolas. You must tell your father about this.”

“I cannot,” Legolas retorted stubbornly.

“Legolas,” Elladan said firmly, “I was not asking you.”

The prince stared at his lover in incredulity.

“Do not cast me that spiteful stare.”

The prince set his jaw and folded his arms across his chest angrily. Exhaling sharply, he shook his head in silent disagreement.

“Listen to me,” Elladan said gently, sitting beside the prince on the bed. “A bit earlier, I spoke with Haldir. He told me about the nightmare you had recently. Why did you not tell me about it?”

Legolas avoided Elladan’s eyes and looked at the bedcovers instead.

Elladan placed one of his hands on the prince’s thigh and caressed it absently.

Haldir’s eyes widened but he remained silent.

“Legolas… I love you,” Elladan said. “All that is happening to you… it is greater than you or me. I fear for you.”

The prince looked up and met Elladan’s eyes.

“You know that the king and I are far from friends but you are his son. If anything were to happen to you without your father’s knowledge… I could never forgive myself. You must tell him.”

Legolas did not speak for a few moments. Instead, he held Elladan’s gaze. He admired the beauty of the Rivendell warrior’s mist colored eyes and sighed audibly when he saw the worry imprinted in them. “And what if my father sends me back to Mirkwood? He was quite angry about the mud fight and threatened to make us return home if we shamed him again.”

“I admit that I do not know how your father will react when you tell him about your dreams and the vision,” Elladan admitted. “But… no matter what happens, I will be by your side.”

Legolas smiled faintly and grasped one of Elladan’s hands. He raised his lover’s fingertips to his lips and kissed them gently.

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Legolas and Elladan were so engrossed in their conversation they didn’t notice Haldir leave.

He crept out of the bedchamber and headed for the woods. His head was spinning with emotion and the cool, post-thunderstorm wind stung his eyes. He walked and walked until he had arrived back at the spot where he had been only a few hours before… the place where he had almost died. Haldir observed the large tree limb and felt a coldness come over him when he tried to imagine himself crushed beneath it. He rarely thought about death; it was such a foreign concept. But now, staring down at the large branch, he felt an indescribable anger well up in him. Before he could stop himself, he began to lash out at the limb. He tore the branches off and began to scream. He kicked the limb and struck it with his fists as hard as he could. He began to tear at the bark and ignored the fact that his hands were bleeding; he didn’t care about anything anymore. He fell to his knees in exhaustion and began to sob. He was now fully aware of the pain from his hands but it hardly compared to the anguish in his heart.

“Haldir?”

Haldir didn’t look up. He knew that the voice he heard belonged to Glorfindel. He knew that at his darkest moment, fate would mock him by allowing the one he loved most to see him this way.

“Haldir… what is wrong?”

“Nothing,” Haldir said, using the back of his bloody hand to wipe away his tears.

“Your… your hands,” Glorfindel said, concerned. He knelt beside the Lórien warrior. “They look as though they have been ripped to shreds.”

Haldir pulled away from Glorfindel. “Do not concern yourself with me. Please, just leave me be.”

Glorfindel was taken aback by Haldir’s words, but didn’t leave. He could see that Haldir was in great despair and did not want to leave him alone. “Your hands are badly injured. Let me help you.”

“Nay,” Haldir said softly. “No one can help me.”

Glorfindel furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“Because I am alone,” Haldir said, looking up at Glorfindel for the first time since the elder had entered the woods. “I almost died today. I saw my end. I suppose we are not so different now, for I too have faced darkness. But with or without this incident, one thing remains clear… I am only half alive… the other half dwells in shadow.” Haldir stood and walked away quickly, leaving behind a baffled Glorfindel as well as his favorite book, which fell out of a pocket in his tunic.

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Thranduil had been more than a little surprised when one of Elrond’s servants brought an official summons to his private quarters. He wondered what could warrant such a formal request for his presence. Even though Elrond had rejected him, he still wanted to believe that they were friends. So it baffled him as to why Elrond hadn’t just come himself to ask him to meet him and Celeborn in the meeting hall. The king mulled over these thoughts as he made his way to Elrond’s manor. He entered the massive doorway and was surprised once again to come upon two formally clad elves that would serve as his escorts to the meeting hall.

The escorts led the king to the entranceway of the meeting hall, bowed and left Thranduil to face Lord Celeborn and Elrond alone.

He felt a bit uneasy as he entered the meeting hall but refused to show any apprehension as he walked into the large chamber. The room was sparse, possessing none of the warmth of other chambers in Elrond’s manor. The cream colored walls were bare; their only charm was the multitude of elaborately ornamented windows that were spaced neatly across the north, east and west walls. The southern wall, the one behind the king, was covered with bookcases that stretched from the floor to the ceiling and countless tomes seemed to weigh heavily on the delicate shelves. The floor was made of eggshell colored marble that shone as if it had just been polished. The king observed the remainder of the room and saw only dozens of chairs that had been spread out neatly. He realized that this must be an informal meeting hall, since there was no podium. He wondered what this meeting was all about and then wondered where Elrond and Celeborn were. Luckily, he did not have to wait long.

Lord Elrond and Lord Celeborn entered the meeting chamber and bowed.

Thranduil responded by simply nodding his head, as it was improper for one of his stature to display a lesser posture to those below his station.

“We need to talk,” Elrond began stiffly.

“Alright…” Thranduil said, furrowing his brow. He realized that this chamber wasn’t the only thing in the room that was cold; he noticed the displeased looks he was getting from not only Elrond but Celeborn as well. *Could Celeborn have discovered how I feel about Elrond? After all, Elrond was married to his only daughter.*

“Would you like to sit?” Elrond asked.

“Nay,” Thranduil responded, trying to understand the expression on Elrond’s face.

“Very well,” Elrond said, nodding. “Would you like some refreshment? I could have one of the servants…”

“I would like to know why I have been called here,” Thranduil said, interrupting the lord. “I mean no disrespect, but this seems very serious. The manner in which you have called me here suggests that a problem is afoot. Please, do not make me wait any longer. What has happened?”

Elrond and Celeborn exchanged tepid expressions before Elrond spoke. “Very well then.” The lord of Rivendell inhaled sharply and met the king’s eyes. “Word has reached our ears about a scandal that occurred recently…”

“A scandal?” Thranduil asked, curious.

“Aye,” Elrond said. “A scandal involving you…” The lord’s voice broke off abruptly. He was trying desperately to hide the anger, sadness and feelings of betrayal that he felt.

“Me?” Thranduil said, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. The king sighed with relief and sat down in a nearby chair. “Your sense of humor could use some polish, Elrond. I feared the worse when you formally summoned me here. Now I see that this whole charade was a jest.”

“Oh, I see,” Celeborn said icily. “You believe that the pubic defamation of my granddaughter’s name is humorous.”

“What?” Thranduil asked, taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“I am talking about you and Arwen… alone in the woods… for hours upon hours! I am talking about you plucking each one of her precious and untainted flowers during the time you spent with her. You preyed upon an innocent female. How could she resist the likes of you? I have seen the way females and males throw themselves at your feet. And I am sure that many of them have found your bed. But why… why would you choose to desecrate the virgin princess of this realm? You may be a king… and you may be the fairest elf in all of Middle-earth, but as far as I am concerned, the title of king is only that… a title. You have none of the good breeding or character that typically goes along with such a lofty designation. And while I suppose every king needs something to ride in the darkest hours of the night… I would suggest a fine steed as opposed to an impressionable child!”

Thranduil rose from his seat. His mouth was partially open and his eyes wide. He could not believe what he was hearing. To him, the idea of courting Arwen seemed so ridiculous. He couldn’t believe that Elrond and Celeborn actually believed these rumors. He had never been so insulted in his entire life. He searched for words to convey his outrage, but none came. He felt more empty and alone than ever. He looked at Elrond’s face but saw that the lord of Rivendell believed this idiocy to be true. It was more than he could bear… to be rejected by the one he loved most in the world and then to be accused of deflowering his daughter. He knew the reason for the stares and whispers at the competition surrounded this falsehood, but he was surprised that they would choose to attack him rather than ask Arwen about this first. “I… have you spoken to Arwen about this?” Thranduil asked, trying to sound calm.

“She has been through enough,” Elrond said. “She has already been questioned by her brothers. There is no need for us to continue to bring shame upon her.”

“Perhaps you should have spoken to her before you sought me out,” Thranduil said.

“And why is that?” Celeborn hissed. “So she could lie to us to conceal your transgressions?”

“Nay,” Thranduil replied, “so she could tell you that nothing happened between us in the forest. We simply talked… nothing more.”

“That is not what she told Elladan and Elrohir.”

“Are you certain? How do you know what was said if you did not speak to her yourself?”

“Are you questioning the integrity of my grandsons?” Celeborn asked angrily.

“Nay,” the king responded. “I am simply suggesting that you gather all of the facts before you make such a salacious accusation.”

“We will not bother poor Arwen with this,” Celeborn said, coolly.

“Bother Arwen with what?” Arwen asked as she entered the meeting hall.

Thranduil stared at Elrond and Celeborn in frustration, awaiting their response.

“Nothing,” Celeborn remarked quickly.

Arwen looked from her grandfather to her father and then looked at Thranduil. She could feel the tension in the air and wondered what she had done to cause strife between those in her family and her newfound friend. “That is an untruth, Grandfather. It is clear to me that something has happened. If it has something to do with me, I would like to know.”

“A lady of the court should not be subjected to a conversation of this sort,” Celeborn explained gently. “All you need to know is that everything is being taken care of.”

“With all due respect, Grandfather, I am not a child. I am fully grown and want to know why you are discussing me with the king. If something is amiss then I want to know.”

“Very well,” Elrond said before Celeborn could protest. “Your grandfather and I have become aware of your… your… relationship with King Thranduil. We called him here to contest it out of concern for you.”

“What?” Arwen asked in shock.

“There, there, Arwen,” Celeborn said gently, grasping one of the maiden’s hands in his own and squeezing affectionately. “I know how embarrassing this must be for you, but do not fret. Your honor will be restored.”

“My honor?” Arwen asked in dismay. “What do you mean? There is no shame in my relationship with the king.”

Celeborn dropped Arwen’s hand and stared at her in shock. “What… what are you saying? Certainly you have not forgotten who you are… and that such actions would disgrace a female of your station.”

Arwen furrowed her brow in confusion. “Are you questioning where our relationship was formed? Is the forest an improper place to…”

“Arwen, I beg of you not to finish your sentence,” Celeborn said abruptly.

“Why?” Arwen asked, dumfounded. “Why are you and Father behaving so strangely?”

“Because they believe that we were intimate,” Thranduil said. “Elrond and Celeborn think that we are lovers.”

Arwen’s mouth fell open for a moment and then she smiled. “You cannot be serious,” she commented.

Elrond and Celeborn exchanged looks once again, this time, of course they were ones of extreme nervousness. They both hoped that they hadn’t jumped to any false conclusions about the nature of Arwen and Thranduil’s relationship.

“You **are** serious!” Arwen exclaimed in shock. “I cannot believe this! This is an outrage!”

“Arwen, please be calm,” Elrond said gently.

“Nay! Nay, I will not be calm!” Arwen placed her hands on her hips angrily and stomped her foot. “How… why would you assume such a thing?”

“We did not assume,” Celeborn said. “Everyone in all three realms was talking about your tryst in the woods with the king. I chose to ignore it until Elladan and Elrohir confirmed the rumors.”

“They did what?” Arwen shrieked, enraged.

“They said that you said…” Elrond began.

“I **never** said that King Thranduil and I were intimate. I told Elladan and Elrohir that my personal life was none of their concern. They said that a relationship between the king and me was revolting. I did not deny or confirm anything.”

“But you struck Elladan,” Elrond feebly protested.

“I should not have done that,” Arwen admitted, “but he was being insensitive and my patience could tolerate no more. I can see now that that two of you are no better than he.”

“Arwen,” Celeborn said slowly, “am I to understand that you and Thranduil did not have an affair in the forest. The relationship of which you speak is based on friendship?”

“Aye,” Arwen said flatly. “King Thranduil and I talked for hours. I poured the contents of my heart out to him and he did not judge me. He only listened attentively and behaved like a perfect gentleman. He even walked in front of me on our way back from the forest, making sure to clear away any underbrush or thistles that may bar my path. He even tore his lovely tunic on a briar bush that he tried to shield me from… and this is his thanks?”

Celeborn and Elrond exchanged mortified looks and stared at the king in shame.

“King Thranduil… I…” Celeborn began hesitantly.

“Please… don’t speak,” Thranduil said, slowly. “I can see now what you both think of me…”

“Thranduil…” Elrond began, his face red with remorse. “If you will only allow me to explain…”

“Explain what?” the king asked, staring into Elrond’s eyes. “How could you ever think I would do that to you?” His words sounded like those of a former lover and Elrond shifted a bit nervously in the presence of his father-in-law. Thranduil, being exceptionally astute, noticed the lovesick tone of his words. Thus he rephrased his comment in the hope of concealing its meaning from Celeborn. “We have had our problems, Elrond, but you should know that I hold my honor and the honor of others above all else.”

“I… I… I know,” Elrond said, defeated.

Thranduil sighed and walked toward the door. Prior to exiting, he looked back and smiled faintly. “Thank you for tending to my hand the other day, Elrond. It has healed completely… it has completely healed.” The king turned and left the chamber.

Elrond felt his heart sink, as he understood the underlying meaning of the king’s words. Thranduil no longer loved him.

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Darkness laid its veil upon the Rivendell sky. Thranduil observed it pensively and tried to push all the unpleasant thoughts of the day from his mind. He hadn’t returned to his bedchamber after he left the place he now deemed ‘the inquisition room’ and had gone for a long walk. Thranduil often found comfort in natural surroundings and discovered that the warmth of the sun on his face or the cool breeze of the night could often quell the most disquieting emotions. He walked and walked and soon found himself standing in front of the Rivendell’s enormous stable. He entered, bowed at a few excited-looking elves, who rushed out of the stable as soon as he passed them, and stood before his stallion. He stroked the horse’s mane gently, but became distracted when he felt someone approaching.

“King Thranduil?”

“Aye,” Thranduil replied and turned around. There, kneeling in the servants position on the ground, was Lord Celeborn.

“Wh… what are you doing?” Thranduil asked, dismayed.

“Begging for your forgiveness, Sire,” Celeborn responded without looking up.

Thranduil turned away for a moment and sighed. He faced the lord and spoke. “Arise, Lord Celeborn.”

Celeborn stood but behaved very humbly toward the king. “I… I owe you my most heartfelt apology, Sire. I feel that you deserve an explanation.”

“The only explanation I want is how you knew where to find me.”

“After you left the meeting hall I went to look for you. You did not return to your quarters so I sent word to every servant in the realm to fetch me and tell me where I could find you.”

Thranduil remembered when the stable servants left so abruptly and now understood why.

“My behavior today was horrid… and inexcusable.”

“You are right,” Thranduil remarked simply.

“Please allow me to explain.”

“There is nothing to explain. I am nothing more than a mere whoring scoundrel who will stop at nothing short of stealing young, noble, virgin females and robbing them of their innocence. But your diatribe taught me a valuable lesson. If you will look around, you will see that we are in the stable. I decided to take your advice and mount a lively steed… instead of virtuous maidens, that is.”

“I deserved that,” Celeborn admitted. “But… there was a reason for our hasty reaction.”

“I know. Your opinion of me is quite low,” Thranduil said flatly. “You believe that I am fair of face and that I have as much depth as a drop of rain.”

“Nay,” Celeborn said. “We reacted… overreacted because of all that was being said was about Arwen.”

Thranduil raised an unsympathetic eyebrow.

Celeborn sighed and a saddened expression clouded his face. “Have you heard of my daughter, Celebrían?”

“Aye,” Thranduil responded.

“And you know what happened to her?”

“Aye,” Thranduil said, feeling his anger lessen.

“Celebrían was my only child… my daughter. We were very close. And although I love all of my grandchildren equally, there was something special when Arwen was born. She is my only granddaughter. Before Celebrían left, she made me promise to watch over Arwen. She knew that Elrond would be overwhelmed with responsibility since he would be ruling alone. So, I have become overly protective of her. She looks so much like her mother… save her dark hair… I just didn’t want to fail her the way I failed Celebrían.”

“In what way did you fail her?” Thranduil asked. “If Arwen is any indication, you love your daughter a great deal.”

“Aye, but I am responsible for the ill that befell her. Celebrían was on her way to see me and her mother when she and her assemblage were attacked by orcs.”

“What happened to your daughter was not your fault,” Thranduil said sincerely.

“Maybe not… but it **would** be my fault if something happened to Arwen. Protecting her was the last promise I made to my daughter.”

Thranduil nodded slowly.

“I apologize for the way I spoke to you… and for the way I treated you. I had no right to behave so unbecomingly. I’m not trying to win back your friendship, your respect or your sympathy. I just wanted you to understand why I behaved the way I did.” Celeborn bowed deeply. “I will not take up any more of your time. Thank-you for listening.” Celeborn resumed a standing position and turned to leave.

Thranduil was torn. He felt quite justified for being angry and wanted to hold this grudge close to his heart. On the other hand, he had told Elrond that he had changed since the days he banished the Lord of Rivendell from his realm. And now would be a good time to prove that this was true. Not to mention the fact that he could understand Celeborn’s reaction. From his encounter with the maiden, he had learned to like her. Arwen was kind, intelligent and very innocent. He would have reacted in the same way--perhaps even worse, if he had heard that a noble he did not know very well had lured her to his bedchamber. “Celeborn.”

The Lord of Lórien turned to face the king.

“Though your actions were hasty… your heart was not displaced in your love and protection of your granddaughter. Your apology has been accepted.”

Celeborn sighed with relief.

“There is a price to be paid, however,” the king added. “Since you have such a way with the servants obeying your commands, I would like you to do something for me. I want to know who started the rumor about Arwen and me. Through the servants, I would like you to obtain this information as I would like to have a diatribe of my own with the guilty party.”

“Arwen is so angry with her father and me, she has refused to speak to us… is this not a great enough price?” Celeborn asked.

“Ah, Celeborn, you cannot negotiate with me,” Thranduil said, grinning. “Have you forgotten that I am the Whore King from Mirkwood? I can persuade the purest of females as well as the basest elves in all three realms into my bed. With all of my skill, what chance do you have?”

Celeborn smiled.

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After Celeborn left, Thranduil decided to go on a lengthy ride through the realm. Hours later, when he returned to his bedchamber, the moon was high in the sky.

The king was not in the least bit tired but decided to return to his bedchamber anyway. He climbed the stairs that led to his quarters and immediately sensed that someone was waiting for him. He walked through the doorway and stopped when he saw Elrond perched on the large settee that was in the sitting area of the large chamber.

Elrond stood and bowed politely.

Thranduil exhaled in annoyance and did not bow in return. Instead, he brushed past the lord and poured himself a goblet of mead. He almost offered some to Elrond but decided that he was too cross to be polite.

Elrond realized immediately that making amends with Thranduil would be difficult. “I spoke with Celeborn…”

“So?” the king said flatly. He picked up a book that he had placed on the small table that was sitting in front of the settee. He sat down in a comfortable armchair and began to leaf through the pages.

“So… Celeborn said that the two of you had a good discussion and that you accepted his apology.”

“And?”

“And… I was wondering if the two of us could have a similar conversation,” Elrond said, trying not to sound too anxious.

Thranduil put the book down and stared at Elrond for a long time. He cursed inwardly when he felt his heart begin to race at the site of the lord. Elrond looked more handsome than ever to the king. Perhaps it was the way the candlelight danced against his perfect face, or the way his leggings clung to his muscular thighs. Thranduil couldn’t believe he could be so incredibly full of anger and lust at the same time.

Elrond wasn’t sure what Thranduil was thinking but he wanted nothing more than to beg for his forgiveness. He knew he had hurt Thranduil with his rejection and now offered him a fresh blow with a false accusation. He wished he could pull the king into his arms and feel Thranduil’s lips on his again. He longed to be close to the king--to tell him how he really felt… but he couldn’t… he just couldn’t.

“So, you want me to forgive and forget?” Thranduil asked, trying to hide the huskiness in his voice.

“Well… you forgave Celeborn,” Elrond said in a joking tone.

“It was difficult to forgive him,” Thranduil said, “and I do not think I will ever forget his words. But excusing his behavior is a bit easier for me when I take into account the fact that Celeborn hardly knows me. He has no reason not to believe what others would say about me. You, on the other hand, should know better.”

“But I have only just begun to know you again,” Elrond protested. “Do not forget that we did not speak for many years.”

“That is true,” Thranduil said. “But after I told you how I feel about you…” the king paused for a few moments before continuing, “how could you think I would do that to you… with Arwen, nonetheless?”

“I… I do not know. I suppose I wasn’t thinking.” Elrond hesitated but decided to be honest with the king. “Actually, I thought that you may have seduced Arwen to punish me for… for rejecting you.”

“I can see now why you do not want to be with me,” Thranduil said icily. “Your opinion of me is so low that I am certain a snake is higher off of the ground than I.”

“Thranduil…” Elrond said gently.

“When I professed my feelings to you, it was not simply an invitation to my bed… it was an invitation into my life.”

Elrond’s heart begged him to speak--to tell Thranduil the truth about his innermost feelings. But the lord’s head was stubborn. Elrond held his tongue and simply stared at the king.

“I am not ready to forgive you,” Thranduil said. “You are not required to return my feelings. But I thought we were friends, Elrond. You do not trust me… that is clear. And now, how can I trust you?”

“I… I do not know,” Elrond said softly.

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Legolas had been so weakened by his vision that he slept in the Lórien bedchamber through the afternoon and well into the evening. When he awakened, he found a slumbering Elladan sitting in a chair by his side. Knowing that rousing his lover would only lead to another lecture, the young prince of Mirkwood decided to slip out of the room and go for a walk.

The prince exited the Lórien guesthouse and observed the night sky. The sky wore its evening garments, a cobalt blue tunic, adorned with diamonds. He inhaled the crisp air and sighed. He wanted to go someplace where he could be alone. Then, it dawned on him--he would go to the hill that stood high above the rest of the realm. He hadn’t been there in quite some time and decided that returning there would be nice.

The prince began to walk quickly in the direction of the hill. Then he began to run. He didn’t know why, but there was something so freeing about running—about the way the air caressed his face and the way his hair danced wildly in the wind.

In no time, the prince had reached his mark; he was on top of the hill. He walked to the edge of a large cliff and looked out over the rim at much of the realm. Rivendell was so beautiful. Overlooking the kingdom, everything seemed brighter, clearer and louder somehow.

The prince turned around and observed his surroundings. He remembered the times that he and Elladan had spent in this place when he was ill. *Perhaps that is why I should spend some time here once again,* the prince thought to himself sadly. Legolas sat under the enormous tree where he and Elladan had made love so many months ago. He never thought that he would want to go back to that time in his life, but in light of everything that was going on in his heart, he longed for a simpler time. He just wanted to be alone. He wanted to think and wished he could form some sort of barrier of protection around him to keep intruders away.

Suddenly, Legolas heard a noise in the wooded forest area to his right. Someone or something was approaching. Then he heard another noise coming from his left. He could feel the presence of several large animals. Legolas scrambled to his feet. At once, the prince realized that he was unarmed. His only weapon would be his gift. He would communicate with whatever was coming. He only hoped that his strange nightmares had not damaged his ability to communicate with animals.

Legolas watched wide-eyed when he saw a large wolf step out of the woods and into the clearing. It walked toward him slowly.

*You summoned us?* The wolf asked in the prince’s mind.

*Us?* Legolas asked.

Before the prince could question further a host of wolves entered the clearing.

Legolas was quite surprised to be faced with more than a dozen large wolves but did not fear them. *I did not summon you,* the prince said.

*But you did,* the largest wolf said. *You asked for a barrier of protection… so we came to answer your call.*

Legolas was confused. He wondered how these wolves could have heard what he was thinking. Normally, he had to purposefully speak to animals in order for them to hear him.

*My name is Zev,* the largest wolf said politely. *Your request will be honored this night by the wolf clan of Faolan. Should times become hard, remember us, oh Ancient One.*

*Ancient one?* Legolas thought to himself, confused.

Zev barked some commands and the other wolves positioned themselves, one in front of the other, until they formed a large circle around the prince and the tree. The animals did not sit until Legolas sat down again.

The prince found the presence of the wolves to be quite comforting, even though he didn’t know why they were there. In time, he forgot about the wolves and again began to think about his dreams and visions and wondered how he was going to explain them to his father--even worse was what he would have to tell Elladan.

Suddenly, Zev’s head arose, his ears were sticking straight up. The other wolves stood, as did Zev, and looked toward one particular spot in the woods.

Legolas sensed it, too. Someone was approaching.

The wolves tightened their perimeter around the prince, while Zev moved forward, seemingly ready to pounce on anyone who dared come too close.

Elladan reached the top of the hill and froze when he saw a large wolf growling at him. He had sensed the animal but had not expected it to be poised to kill him.

Zev began to growl and bear his teeth, and the other wolves followed suit. Zev jumped toward Elladan suddenly, but Elladan countered the attack. He picked up a large branch off of the ground and pointed it at the wolf.

“No!” Legolas shouted. *Zev, stop this attack at once. That elf… he is a friend.*

*As you wish, Ancient One.* Zev and the other wolves stopped growling at once. Zev returned to the prince’s side. *Please forgive our hasty reaction,* Zev said apologetically. *We were only trying to serve you.*

*I am not angry,* the prince said sincerely. *You have… served me well this evening. Thank you for your assistance. You may leave me now. I wish to speak to my friend alone.*

*As you wish,* Zev said. He barked a command and disappeared into the woods with his clan.

“What was that?” Elladan asked, approaching the prince.

“I am not sure,” Legolas said. “I was thinking to myself… wishing that I could be alone and had a barrier around me to keep everyone at bay. Suddenly, I was surrounded by nearly twenty wolves who claimed that I summoned them. The most odd part was that the leader of that wolf clan kept calling me ‘Ancient One.’

“A wolf clan?” Elladan asked. “I thought a group of wolves was called a pack.”

“That is what we call them. Wolves refer to themselves as a clan. They have a leader and everything,” Legolas explained.

“When I awakened, you had gone,” Elladan said, suddenly changing the subject. He was unable to hide the hurt in his voice.

“Oh…” Legolas said, feeling guilty.

“Legolas, I looked everywhere for you,” Elladan said. “I was very concerned… I didn’t know if you had another vision and lost consciousness somewhere.”

“Nay,” Legolas said. “I just wanted to be alone… to think.”

Elladan sighed audibly and dropped the limb that he had been holding. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Nay,” the prince responded.

“Legolas, I think you should speak to your father about your dreams… and the vision tomorrow morning,” Elladan began slowly.

“Oh, Elladan,” Legolas said in exasperation. “I am not ready to tell him yet. I will speak to my father about it after the archery competition.”

“Legolas, why must you be so willful about this?” Elladan asked, annoyed. “You cannot hide this from your family forever. You must tell your father.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I will tell him,” Elladan said flatly.

“Go ahead! I care not. Your version of recent events will only be partially true,” the prince spat.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that there is more to this than you know,” Legolas said. “This is not as simple as you think. But since you are so anxious to tell someone about this, then go ahead. Tell my father!”

“Why are you being so stubborn, Legolas?”

“Because I am dying,” Legolas said, slumping against the tree in exhaustion.

---

TBC…